


that old autumn anxiety

by mothwrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Greek myth AU, Hades and Persephone, Multi, Reincarnation, Slight Tony/Betty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They can't remember their old lives, but when Autumn comes, the same story happens again and again. (Hades and Persephone au, with a twist.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	that old autumn anxiety

They start building a kingdom when Death noticed they were running out of room. They carve out enormous stone caverns and decorate them sparsely, with whatever materials they have to hand. When they sleep, (if they sleep,) they lie together, only just touching. Death hardly ever has the time- there are always souls that need collecting, and only one man who has taken the responsibility to collect them. (Is he still a man? He can’t remember.)

His heart, (if he still has one,) feels like it could burst when the title of king is bestowed on Hades. His companion accepts it almost bashfully, protesting that such a title is necessary. They have both worked so hard to create some kind of home for the dead. He wishes to look after them, not rule them. They tell him; you can do both.

 _What would you like,_ Death asks one night. It’s a rare night when they both have time to talk, to lie together peacefully. _Instead of a title. What would have made you happy, as a reward?_

Hades answers by moving closer to him in the large bed. Death, by nature, is not warm, but Hades curls up into him anyway, and closes his eyes. He looks content, despite the chill he must be feeling. His closed eyes are heavy and tired, with dark circles underneath; yet, he smiles.

 _Just this,_ he finally says. _This is all I need._

Death knows he is lying, but says nothing. For the rest of the night they are silent, save for the noise of their children, the dead, below.

*

 

It was the start of summer when Tony Stark returned from the Battle of New York with a sleepy, dishevelled Bruce Banner in tow. It had long been Tony’s favourite season. There was something about it, about the joyful, carefree attitude of it, that was so different from the rest of the year. Autumn made him anxious. Winter was the worst; he always felt cold, tired, and overworked, no matter what the company was doing that year. With spring, he felt better, but simply hated waiting around for it all.

Tony Stark was a summer person. So it surprised him, arrogant as he was, to learn that Bruce Banner preferred the coldest months of winter to any other time of year. Then again, there were a lot of things about Bruce which surprised him. He’d expected the man to be awkward, or jumpy while they lived together, but after their introduction on the helicarrier Bruce had slipped into his life with fluid ease. He was simple to live with, but not easily ignored. Tony found himself constantly marvelling at how well Bruce _fit,_ how he anticipated Tony’s words and actions, his easy acceptance of Tony’s flaws, the way he improved him. It was as if they’d known each other for years.

Autumn drew nearer. The nights got colder, and before long they had to start lighting lamps if they wanted to sit under the stars and talk, as they had done all summer. While Tony’s old Autumn anxiety crept up on him, he was struck by Bruce’s new, almost nervous energy. He knew it was something to do with S.H.I.E.L.D’s recent victory over the US military re: ownership of the Hulk, and what looked like General Ross’s upcoming resignation. He also knew, inexplicably, that whatever was happening had to happen _now._ Not in the winter, not in the spring. Autumn drew nearer, and with it, change.

 

The answer was found when Tony walked down to breakfast in the morning and found Bruce eating pancakes and fruit salad with Dr Elizabeth Ross. They required no introduction; Tony knew her intimately, from Bruce’s stories, his memories, the wistful tone of his sighs. When she introduced herself anyway it sounded like a challenge- one that, if he could remember, he would have found familiar.

They talked, almost pleasantly, until Tony couldn’t stand it any more and announced he’d be in the workshop if anyone needed him. Before he left, he stole a handful of pomegranate seeds from Bruce’s bowl.

 

*

 

 _She’s very beautiful,_ Death says as he walks up behind Hades. The King of the underworld jumps at the sound of his voice like a guilty child, and when he turns to face him, Death can’t help but notice the faint blush on his cheeks.

_She’s just a girl. It’s nice to watch the living for a change, don’t you think?_

Death doesn’t mention that Hades has warm blood and a beating heart, and that he watches him every day.

_You’re not watching the living. You’re watching her. And it’s becoming a habit._

The girl _was_ beautiful; he hadn’t lied. Her skin was glowing, warmed by the sun, and long dark hair covered her shoulders and the top of her dress. The first time Hades saw her, she’d looked like an infant by their standards, but one could see now that she’d grown. Death could practically feel Hades’ want in the air around them.

He says, _take her, if you want her that badly. You’re a king. She could do worse._

Hades bristles, and looks away, as Death knew he would. He counts it as a success, though to what end, he isn’t yet sure.

 _We have work to do,_ he says with authority, finally sounding every inch the king that he is. It doesn’t suit him at all. _Let’s go._

Death watches him look back at the girl just once as they leave, and wonders how long it would take for the flowers in her hair to wilt if she ever ventured down into their cold, dark home.

 

Later, Hades says, _she’s called Persephone._ Death recognises the name, and realises why he dislikes her. Spring is the one thing he cannot touch.

 

*

 

Betty and Bruce met on the first day of freshman orientation at the California Institute of Technology, but didn’t really get to know each other until they were flung together at some party of someone’s room-mate a few months later. By then, the chill had set in, and an evening campfire on the beach saw Bruce frantically trying to finish his reading by the light of the fire, when Betty spotted him and made her way over. The light of the campfire made her appear to glow as she walked over, and her presence seemed to make him warmer, somehow; something Bruce was grateful for, having grown up in the heat of New Mexico and never quite gotten on with the cold.

They were inseparable until summer came, and Betty left for home. Bruce, with no home to go back to, stayed in the college and waited through the longest summer of his life until she came back.

 

The pattern continued, (as it always had, as it always will.)

 

Years passed, and on the other side of the country, Tony Stark graduated from MIT and started making a name for himself. It was during another separation, (different work assignments, or a sick family member, or a long conference,) that Bruce first heard the celebrity discussed on the news; Tony Stark, the merchant of death. He mulls over it for a few days, finds the phrase popping up in his head while he’s working, distracting him in inexplicable ways.

 

Betty comes home, (she got transferred, or her aunt’s doing fine, or the conference ended,) and he forgets all about it until he’s standing on a flying ship with a demi-god and living legend and Tony Stark is shaking his hand.

 

*

 

_You brought her down here, didn’t you?_

Hades can’t lie. There are trees flowering in the underworld, where before there had been dry branches. Smaller, newer souls play under them, and for the first time, Death can hear laughter. When he enters the caves, his burden seems lighter, as if the people he is carrying are pleased to arrive. He should be pleased, but he looks at the flowers and Hades’ flushed, smiling face, and feels only sadness.

_She didn’t stay long. She wanted to see. What’s the harm?_

_You know damn well-_ Death stops himself. He cannot say what he is thinking. Hades gives so much of himself; to his work, to the dead, and never knows when to stop. He loves freely and without thought, even when it isn’t returned, or even recognised. For once, he could be happy. He could get his reward. _You can’t keep her,_ Death says instead. He feels a sort of vindictive pleasure in reminding him of this.

 

It turns sour when Hades lifts his head, loses his blush, and says; _watch me._

 

Time passes, and Death notices fruit growing on the new trees. He crushes a pomegranate under his foot and leaves it in plain sight. His heavy workload is making him bitter. Above the caves, the Earth is cold. He is starting to make more trips in a day than he can stand, and Hades doesn’t notice a thing.

 

*

 

Betty, Tony quickly learned, was not a woman who was willing to be ignored. (“You’re surprised?” Bruce said, later on. “She once stopped a tank by yelling at it and stamping her foot. A _tank_. And then punched a marine in the face, on the same day.”)

“You don’t like me,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes.

“That’s not it,” he replied, because honestly- he did. Betty Ross is a powerful, formidable woman, and he respected the hell out of her, but she was also warm, and funny, and genuinely likeable. It was just, _something-_ he didn’t know if it was just getting used to a new person that he didn’t like, or if it was her relationship with Bruce, but there was something about her that put him on edge.

“That’s a pretty weak answer,” she said, with an amused smile once he’d explained his thoughts to the best of his ability. “And kinda boils down to, ‘I don’t like being the third wheel.’ Which you are not, by the way.”

“You two aren’t...” he gestured, “you two?”

Her raised eyebrow clearly said _none of your business,_ but she replied, “We’ll always be... something. But we can’t date. Our lives just refuse to take us to the same place, I guess.” She paused, looked him up and down, and then said, “that makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he replied frankly. “I’m selfish, ask anyone.”

“I like your honesty.”  
“I like your confidence. Are you staying?”

“Yes.”  
“Good,” he said, and meant it. “I want to see what the three of us can do.”

“I look forward to it.” She grinned, that warm, blinding smile- yeah, he could see why Bruce loved her.

 

*

 

 _She needs to go back,_ Death says, but it falls on deaf ears. _If you won’t give her up they’ll come for both of you. She puts us in danger._

Hades has a flower tucked into his hair, just above his ear, and Death resists the urge to tear it out. Death has no master, but Hades is still his king.

 _Persephone wants to stay. No-one’s going to force her out._ Death wonders if he is included in that thinly veiled threat. _Besides, they won’t come here. They never do._

_They will, for her. You’ve angered a lot of people._

_Let them try!_ Hades shouts, actually _shouts,_ and the ghosts around them scatter. _They’re not taking her from me. And neither are you, don’t think I don’t see how you hate her._

_I don’t-_

Hades slams his hands down on the table separating them. _Don’t lie to me!_

The force shakes the room enough that some of the petals drop from the hanging flowers onto the floor. It is not the first time Death has seen the anger that Hades usually keeps so closely concealed, but it shakes him every time.

_Either you trap her here, or you let her go. Make a choice._

 

Death leaves before Hades can respond, and passes Persephone under a flowering tree. He steps forward, and the petals she’s holding shrivel.

 _You need to leave,_ he says, without preamble.

She looks up at him, and he’s struck by how much he’s grown since they first saw her. She’s a woman, and she stares him down with a fierceness he wasn’t expecting.

_Try and move me._

_Don’t you understand that you are putting him in danger?_

Persephone stands. She’s much taller than him; having grown up on the best bounty of the Earth, thanks to her mother. She is healthy and strong and does not belong to this world.

_I’ll protect him._

_How?_ He scoffs. _With flowers, and fruit?_

_And how will your powers protect him? You’re the reason this place is so dark. You’re so cold, he can hardly touch you._

He doesn’t know what to say. She’s right.

 _I’ve always hated the Spring,_ Death says, and his meaning is clear. I know you are not a girl; he thinks. I know you are older than him, for the spring has come every year, even before the dead had a place to rest. I know we battle every year and I know you recognise me.

 _I know._ Persephone smiles, sweet and dangerous. _I know you do._

 

*

 

“Stop treating me like a pet,” Bruce finally snapped one day, sick of being fought over and coddled. “I do not need you to _look after me._ I am not some- some tortured individual who needs to be rescued, I’m-” he stops and thinks, noticing their slightly wary expressions. “I’m not angry with you. Obviously- you’d _know_. But you’re driving me crazy- _both_ of you,” he turned slightly to say to Betty, who had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Just please, please stop it. I’m an adult. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Betty said, soothing and just shy of condescending. “We’re sorry.”

 

(Tony Stark doesn’t do apologies. But he thinks he could learn, for these two.)

 

*

 

 _They’re coming,_ Death yells, running into the garden to find Hades and Persephone sat in the grass. _I told you, didn’t I? Get out of here._ He addresses this last part to Persephone, and hope she understands it’s for her own safety. Her own freedom.

She turns to Hades. _Can they really take me away?_

He doesn’t answer. His eyes lock with Death, who finally nods his approval. Hades reaches up to the pomegranate tree, plucks one from a branch, and offers it to Persephone.

 _Not if you don’t let them,_ he says. _But this is your choice._

 

When they come for Persephone, her mother wrenches the fruit from her hand with a tortured cry. It’s too late. Six of the seeds are already gone.

 

Hades and Death share a triumphant smile. For a few moments, before the terrible decision is made, they think they’ve won, and it tastes sweeter than the fruit lying half-eaten on the ground.

 

*

 

Betty has to go, of course. Bruce doesn’t even ask why. For once, he feels completely secure in the knowledge that she’ll come back, because this time, she knows where to find him.

 

She hugs Tony when she leaves, firm and friendly, and whispers, “look after each other.”

 

“Hurry home,” he whispers back, “so you can look after the both of us.”

 

Bruce is not a king, Betty cannot control nature, and Tony no longer brings death- or as much as he used to. There are no longer gods on Earth, but humans still feel the repercussions of their actions. Tony keeps pomegranate juice in the fridge. Betty keeps a garden, far away from their floor, where Tony’s overly-helpful robots can’t get to her flowers. Bruce continues to work as a doctor alongside his work in the lab, and people remark on how gently he treats the dead, and the respect he has for every single lost patient or civilian casualty.

 

When the nights become longer, hot and humid, Bruce is thankful for the slight chill Tony’s arc reactor gives off when they’re entwined in the sheets. When the cold weather sets in, and Betty returns, the three of them curl up and are surrounded by warmth.

  
After a strange yet familiar dream, Bruce thinks, idly, _Hades and Persephone never had it so good._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not sure about this fic, but I had fun writing it.  
> This was partly inspired by the story "listen to your heart (but don't forget about me)", which is a Steve/Bucky Hades and Persephone au and well worth a read!


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